Don't Ever Change
by legalliz
Summary: Just a quick little one-shot. Stephanie's attending her twenty-year class reunion. Hilarity ensues.


"Is that Stephanie Plum? Oh. My. Gosh! You haven't changed a bit!"

I mentally cringed as Nicki Barkowleski made her way over to me. She grabbed my hands and started jumping up and down excitedly. It was beyond awkward. Even more so with her double-D's threatening to knock one or both of us unconscious.

But to be honest, unconscious wasn't sounding all that bad at the moment.

My name is Stephanie Plum, and as Nicki so aptly stated, I haven't changed all that much over the course of my adult years. I'm 5'7 with a sturdy frame from my Hungarian side, a few curves from my Italian side, and frizzy, shoulder length curls from a higher power with a sense of humor. My eyes are blue, my nose is cute, and I continually have issues controlling myself around sugar. And occasionally men. Or one man in particular.

I also just so happen to be thirty-eight. I keep telling myself it's an arbitrary number, but it's hard to reason arbitrary when you get an invite for your twenty-year high school reunion in the mail. _Twenty_ years. Has it really been that long?

Judging by some of my other classmates who _have_ changed over the course of those twenty years, it has _indeed_ been that long. Time has been kind to some. Brutal to others. And downright scary to the rest.

I'm hoping I fall somewhere in the middle. Maybe leaning more to the kind side. Sure, I've discovered a few extra fine lines and wrinkles lately along with some wiry, gray hairs, but overall I still feel pretty good about myself. Especially with the added confidence that only a pair of Spanx can provide.

Nicki beamed at me. "I'm _so_ happy you could make it, Steph. It's like we're all one big happy family again."

Yeah. Thankfully with the added bonus of slot machines and an open bar.

"So what's new with you?" she continued, hooking her arm through mine. Oh boy.

I followed her across the room and took a seat at one of the open round tables.

"Not much. You know, just the usual, I guess. Work and that sort of thing."

Nicki grinned. "My Ma heard from your Ma that you're into this whole bounty hunting business with your cousin. Is that true?"

"Actually, I work for a private security company these days."

"That's so cool! Do you wear the whole black leather getup and carry a gun?"

Bobby Jenson, who'd been intently focused on enjoying the meat selection from the buffet, suddenly piped in from across the table. "Did I just hear you say black leather?"

I rolled my eyes. Apparently the guy who'd been a real skeeze back in high school was still a skeeze. Now even more disgusting with a bad comb-over, double-chin, and sweaty complexion. Like a pig in August. I tried not to shudder at the thought.

"Steph was just telling me about her job," Nicki said.

"A job that does _not_ include black leather," I added.

Bobby frowned. "Too bad. Bet you'd look real good in leather." He licked his lips, and I promptly excused myself to the little ladies room to powder my nose. Nicki tagged along. Probably didn't want to be left alone with Bobby.

"So security," she continued. "That's got to be exciting."

"It has its moments."

I stepped into a vacant stall and said a silent prayer that I wouldn't have to ask Nicki not to join me. Thankfully she parked herself in front of a mirror and hauled out her Jersey essentials. Gloss. Mascara. Eye liner. Blush. Concealer.

I did my business-or at least pretended to-and debated how embarrassing the repercussions would be if I spent the entire night in the bathroom. Surely I'd been the butt of worse jokes and gossip before. Hell, I was practically immune to it by now.

I glanced at my phone. No texts. Apparently the target hadn't arrived yet. Just my luck…

As if on some cosmic que, a notification suddenly appeared on my screen.

 _Having fun yet?_

I rolled my eyes.

 _Tons. Former quarterback just asked if I wanted to make out under the bleachers. But I said I'm a good girl and don't do those kinds of things._

Several moments passed before another text arrived.

 _Better watch it, babe. Those pants aren't fireproof._

I held back a laugh.

 _I'm not wearing pants_.

 _Good to know._

The flirty banter was fun. Would've been more fun if I wasn't surrounded by a bunch of people I went to high school with. But that was another thing about me that hadn't changed. I never went back on a deal.

Although, to be fair, I had a hunch this was no ordinary deal. In fact, I was pretty sure it was kind of a payback situation.

It all started a couple weeks ago at a family dinner. Everyone was being their usual nagging, noisy selves save for my father who's recently taken to wearing a permanent set of earplugs. My sister was complaining about premature graying, my mom was asking me for the millionth time why I'm so against marriage and children, and even Grandma Mazur was in a snit because no one was available to take her to her hair appointment on Saturday. Throw in four nieces either crying, whining, yelling, or tattling, and the headache that had started out as a slight pain between my eyes quickly morphed into the migraine from hell.

Ten minutes in and I was ready to throw in the towel. Daughterly duties be damned. I shot off a quick text and tried to find my mental happy place while I waited for my rescue.

A knock at the door a few minutes later made me practically sigh in relief.

"Now who could that be?" my mother asked, obviously perturbed by the interruption. She made her way to the door. "Hello," she answered politely. "Stephanie forgot to mention you'd be joining us for dinner."

Ranger, aka: Ricardo Carlos Manoso, aka: my current employer, aka: the sexiest man alive, stepped into the entry way. "Wish I could," he replied casually. "But I'm here for Steph. There was a break-in across town, and we need all hands on deck."

My mom frowned. "Can it wait? We just sliced up the pot roast."

Ranger glanced over at me. "Afraid not. The first hour's the most crucial."

I moved my chair out from the table and started collecting my things.

"But Aunt Steph," protested one of the nieces, "you promised to help me with my homework."

"And build a pillow fort," chimed in another.

"And what about my hair appointment?" Grandma Mazur grumped.

My head felt like it was in a vice. And growing tighter by the minute.

"Nobody loves me," Grandma added, laying on the guilt. "For all I know, you all plan to have me cremated when I kick off. Which may in fact be very soon because I've got this lump and…"

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" I yelled. "Ranger will take you to your hair appointment Saturday."

The room froze, but all I could care about was the silence. It was heavenly.

That is until I heard a very quiet and subtle "babe."

Uh oh.

"What a nice thing for you to do," Grandma beamed. She walked over to join us in the entryway. "You can pick me up at ten." She leaned closer to Ranger. "And I'll slip you a twenty if I can see that chiseled backside of yours again," she whispered.

I did a mental face palm.

"It'll cost you more than that," Ranger said. " _Much_ more." He shot me a dangerous look before slipping his arm behind me and guiding us out the door.

"Sorry," I said as we hopped into his Porsche. "It just slipped out."

He shrugged. "You know what they say?"

I felt a sudden squishy feeling in my gut. "Do I?"

He smiled. "All's fair, babe."

Two days later, Ranger stopped by my desk.

"Got a job for you."

I glanced up from my computer and tried to get a read on his expression. Except Ranger didn't exactly do expressions.

"Okay," I replied trying to play it cool.

"Need you for a distraction." He tossed a rectangular card and file on my desk.

I picked up the card and frowned. "Stealing mail's a federal offense, you know."

"Good thing it was in the trash then."

I read the invitation then glanced up at Ranger. "Sorry. Not gonna happen. Get Les or Cal to do it."

Ranger considered the option. "I _could_. But, they don't look half as good in a dress."

"That's sexist. And I'm _not_ doing it."

Ranger crossed his arms over his chest. "What's the matter? Scared?"

"No," I blurted.

He leaned forward. "Prove it."

My eyes narrowed. "Fine. I will."

The statement echoed in the silence, and it took me a moment to realize my mistake. Damn impulsivity. Damn Ranger. Damn. Damn. Damn.

A smile twitched at the corner of Ranger's mouth as if he'd just read my mind. "Too late to turn back now."

I glared at him. "That was low, and you know it."

He shrugged. "I'm just a guy trying to run a business."

"A devious manipulator trying to run a business, you mean."

"Been called worse, babe." He turned and started heading back down the hall.

"You'll regret this," I called after him.

"Doubt it," he called back.

And that brings us back to the bathrooms. My target for the evening was one, Lonnie Evans, who just so happened to be a custodian for the casino that just so happened to be the location for my twenty year high school reunion. I have no idea how many strings Ranger had to pull to make all the stars align just right, but I had a hunch he'd gone to a good deal of trouble to get me back for the Grandma Mazur hair appointment.

 _Any movement?_ I texted.

 _Not yet. Go enjoy yourself._

Ha. Yeah, good one.

I eventually left the safety of my stall and hit the sinks to wash my hands. Nicki, still messing with her makeup, raised a curious eyebrow.

"You sick or something?"

Guess I'd stayed too long in the stall. "Nah. Just some minor tummy discomfort. I'm good now."

She eyed me suspiciously, but let the matter drop.

"We should probably get back out there to mingle some more," I offered. "Don't want to miss any of the big names."

Nicki grinned as she took my arm and led us out into the fray.

An hour later and I was up at the bar for my second mondo margarita. It probably wasn't the best idea considering I was technically on the clock, but catching up with old classmates was draining. Everyone wanted to know the same things. What do you do? Who are you married to? And how many kids do you have? Needless to say, my end of the conversation tended to fizzle pretty quickly.

I took a sip of the strawberry goodness and heard my phone jingle.

 _You sure that's a good idea, babe?_

 _Bite me._

 _Only if I get to choose where._

I heaved a sigh. _If Evans doesn't show for his shift in the next twenty minutes, I'm calling it a night._

 _I don't employ quitters._

 _Twenty minutes. Then I guess I'll be looking for a new job._

I turned off the phone and stirred my margarita.

"Gee, Chip. Didn't realize they allowed _dogs_ in this fine establishment."

Crap.

I slowly turned around and slapped on a fake smile. "Hey, Joyce."

Joyce Barnhardt, my lifelong arch nemesis, stood behind me with her latest "flavor of the month" whose name was apparently Chip.

"Plum," she shot back.

"Didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"Likewise," she sneered. "You hittin' up some old flames for lap dance cash?"

"Good one," I said tipping my glass to her. I slid off my stool. "If you'll excuse me."

I pushed past her, but she stuck her foot out at the last minute and tripped me. In my slightly buzzed state, I fell to my knees as the remainder of the margarita went flying. A million sets of eyes turned to gawk and stare when the glass shattered on the floor. I scrambled to get to my feet, but my foot slipped in the mess. The sudden sound of tearing fabric seemed to echo off the walls.

Oh god.

I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. Then I felt someone pull me up onto my feet.

"Looks like I arrived just in the nick of time. Sorry I'm late."

I stood in a numb daze as Ranger placed an affectionate kiss on my head. He grabbed a stack of napkins from the bar and started wiping margarita mess off my legs. Then he traced a finger along the new rip in my dress and grinned.

"Sexy."

I rolled my eyes. "You can see my Spanx," I ground out through tightly clenched teeth.

He slung an arm over my shoulders and leaned in close. "Only if you look _really_ close." He guided me past the dwindling crowd of onlookers and helped me over to a table.

"Got something that might cheer you up," he said.

"Unless it's a loaded gun, I highly doubt it."

Ranger slid a plate over with a piece of chocolate cake. I narrowed my eyes.

"You're playing dirty."

"Always."

Suddenly, Ranger's phone buzzed. He pulled it out and answered. "Yo."

There was some muffled dialogue on the other end, but I was too busy enjoying my cake to care.

The call ended, and Ranger turned his attention back to me. "Looks like you're off the hook, babe."

"Oh?"

"Apparently Lonnie Evans skipped his shift this evening to try and rob a bank a few blocks over. Guess his car ran out of gas during the getaway. Tank's taking care of it."

I stood and grabbed my things. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get the hell out of here."

"What's the matter?" Ranger smirked. "Not in the mood to mingle anymore?"

"Ha. Ha. You've had your fun. Are we all squared up now?"

Ranger leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. "Just about."

Yikes!

We left the casino and made our way back toward Trenton.

"I sense something burning," Ranger said as we got off the freeway. "What's on your mind?"

I toyed with my silver clutch. "It's nothing."

"Babe."

"It's just that I'm the exact same person I was twenty years ago."

Ranger glanced over at me. "I seriously doubt that."

"Everyone I went to school with has husbands and wives and kids. Hell, some of them even have _grand_ kids."

"Is that something _you_ want?"

I opened and closed the clutch a few more times. "Maybe." I thought a moment. "Not really. I just feel like I don't have anything to talk about."

"What do you mean? You just finished your master's."

"Yeah. It took me _four_ years."

"Babe, only eight percent of the nation has a master's degree. You're among the elite."

I sighed. "I guess."

"And you volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club every other Saturday."

I made a face. "It's not that big of a deal."

"I'll bet the kids you work with would beg to differ."

I gave a small smile. "You're just trying to weasel your way back into my good graces."

"Is it working?" Ranger slipped his hand in mine, and I shrugged.

"Maybe."

"You wanna know the truth, babe?"

"About what?"

"About why I sent you to the reunion tonight."

"I figured it was payback for Grandma Mazur copping a feel after her hair appointment."

Ranger's mouth twitched. " _That_ , and I wanted you to see that their opinions don't matter. You're a strong, successful, beautiful woman."

"And a walking disaster," I added nodding toward the rip in my dress.

"You're perfect just the way you are, babe," Ranger said as he parked the car. He leaned over and kissed me. "Don't ever change."


End file.
